A Tale of Three Kittens
by Crawler
Summary: There's a new protector in the junkyard, and he's trying to do a good job. Meanwhile, the junkyard is seeing some new faces... Ritzkin Arc 8
1. Chapter 1

Title: A Tale of Three Kittens (1/3)  
Rating: K  
Notes: In which there are new arrivals to the Junkyard.

Sorry for the delay, but this one was taking me a while! I hope you enjoy it!

I do not own Cats!

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A Tale of Three Kittens

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Three days. It had been three horrible, horrible days since Simbol died. Grief-wails still echoed around the junkyard at times, though they were greatly diminished. Gus lead most of them, mourning for his son.

Munkustrap huddled bleakly on top of a car, watching the junkyard. He was the Protector now. He had a job to do. He needed to keep the Jellicles safe.

Beside him, Tugger was curled up, a fluffy bundle of warmth. He was asleep. This Protector business really took it out of him, he claimed, which was somewhat humorous, because all Tugger was doing was following him around and keeping him company. Munkustrap had to admit, he did appreciate the larger cat's presence. With Simbol gone…

Well, he had only felt this alone twice before – when Macavity tried to kill him, and when Tugger turned his back on him.

But now Tugger was his friend again. Munkustrap turned his head and nuzzled Tugger's shoulder. The maned cat stirred, yawning, before reaching over to drape an arm over Munkustrap in a loose hug before returning to his sleep. They had done some talking in the past few days. Munkustrap had yelled at Tugger for not caring about Simbol's death… and Tugger had revealed that he was secretly _glad _Simbol was dead. And then he had explained, had told Munkustrap how jealous he had been. He had explained how he _was _sad Simbol was gone, but at the same time, he couldn't bring himself to mourn the loss of someone who had stolen his friend. And he had apologized. He couldn't mourn Simbol himself, but he could support Munkustrap.

And that was why Tugger was here, curled up by Munkustrap, instead of off flirting with Bomba or someone else. Granted, Bomba probably would have smacked Tugger for trying anything right now – Simbol had been her older brother, after all – but still, Munkustrap was glad he was at the top of Tugger's list of important things.

Scanning the junkyard again, Munkustrap frowned. Behind the tire, where the Jellicles were buried, and where both Cattivo and Simbol had been recently interred, there was a small, pale shape. An injured mouse? That was awfully large for a mouse… Squinting, Munkustrap tried to make out what it was. All of a sudden, it became clear. Those brown patches, those pointed ears… that was a kitten, curled up by Simbol's grave. And not just any kitten… little Tumblebrutus.

Munkustrap wiggled out from under Tugger's arm and looked back as the larger cat cracked an eye open. "I won't be gone long. Go back to sleep, I'll be back soon." Tugger nodded and curled a little tighter, asleep again almost instantly.

With Tugger taken care of, Munkustrap jumped down and picked his way over to where Tumble was. It was rather cool out – not _too _cold, unless you were a kitten. And Tumble, even with his nose tucked into his tail, was trembling. Shivering? Munkustrap wasn't too sure. He stepped up beside the young cat and put his paw on Tumble's back. "Hey," he said softly. "What are you doing out here?"

Jennyanydots' humans had shown up in the junkyard yesterday, grabbing the Gumbie Cat and taking her away, scolding her for escaping again. They had known to find her here, because here was where she always ran off to, to visit Simbol. Munkustrap had hissed at the humans. Couldn't they see that she had a kitten who needed her? Why were they separating the already-broken family?

But his hisses had done no good, and Jenny had been taken home, leaving Tumble alone. Oh, he had brothers, but Alonzo and Plato were pretty despondent, and Admetus…

Well, Munkustrap wouldn't trust Admetus with the well-being of a kitten, even of his brother. Admetus was almost as bad as Tugger.

So Tumble had been left with Jellylorum, the resident healer and mother-of-all-kittens when Jenny wasn't in the yard. He hadn't seemed to fully grasp everything that had happened in the past few days.

Tumble uncurled a little to look up at Munkustrap, and Munkustrap quickly pulled the little kitten into a hug. Tumble's eyes were red and tear-filled, and the broken-hearted expression wasn't one any kitten should ever be wearing. "Oh, Tumble…"

Two tiny paws curled into his fur as Tumble cuddled against Munkustrap's chest. "Ametus… Ametus… Ametus said Daddy's asleepying forever…" he whispered. "Forever an' ever an' ever an' ever an' he's never ever ever comin' back…"

Munkustrap swallowed thickly and hugged Tumble tighter. "Yes… that's true," he whispered. "Your daddy died."

"I wanna wake him up," Tumble said.

"You can't," Munkustrap said. "You can't wake up a dead kitty."

"I can always wake up Daddy," Tumble said. "You just gotta jump on him. But they covered Daddy in dirt. I can't jump on Daddy when he's all dirted."

"Tumble…"

Tumble's paws tightened in Munkustrap's fur and the kitten shook with a muffled sob. "I want Daddy!"

"I'm sorry," Munkustrap whispered.

Tumble continued to cry, his tears soaking through Munkustrap's fur. Munkustrap didn't know what else he could do for Tumble, so he held the kitten close, rubbing his back and kissing him between the ears, like Simbol used to.

Eventually, Tumble's tears stopped, and Munkustrap realized he had cried himself to sleep, still holding tightly to Munkustrap. Blinking back his own tears at the state of this kitten, Munkustrap carefully picked him up and carried him back to the car top.

Tugger was awake now, sitting up and watching him. He reached out and placed his paw on Tumble's back. "Poor kid…" he murmured. "C'mere. Put him down." He laid down again and patted the car next to him.

Munkustrap set Tumble by Tugger's side, carefully working the little paws out of his fur. Tugger wrapped his fluffy tail around the smaller cat and began to purr. In his sleep, Tumble turned toward Tugger and burrowed into his thick fur.

Sitting beside the pair, Munkustrap couldn't help but give a weak smile. "You'd make a great father," he said.

"Hush, you," Tugger said, licking Tumble's ears. "You wanna ruin my reputation?"

Munkustrap laid down on Tumble's other side and sighed, resting his chin on an arm as he watched Tugger comfort the dozing kitten. "I don't know what we're going to do about him, Tugger. He's so young… and he's basically an orphan now." He shook his head sadly. "Even I had a family until I was almost an adult… Tumble's only a few months old."

"We'll figure something out," Tugger said. "You're the Protector. I'm sure you'll find a way to protect him."

Munkustrap sighed again, closing his eyes. "Or I'll fail him, just like I'll fail everyone else."

Tugger poked Munkustrap in the side. "Hey. Don't talk like that."

Munkustrap batted Tugger's paw away. "Oh, shut up. You hear what they all say, same as me."

"Nobody thinks you're going to fail us," Tugger said. "They're concerned because you're so young – you're the youngest guardian Dad remembers – but that doesn't mean they think you'll fail."

"They don't think I'm up to the task. _I _don't think I'm up to the task."

"Simbol trained you," Tugger said. "Simbol prepared you. Simbol _knew _you were going to take over some day, and he made sure you were ready for it. Now, if Simbol really was the awesome super amazing cat that you keep saying he was, do you really think he'd die and leave the tribe in the paws of someone unsuited for the task?"

"No…" Munkustrap whispered.

"See? You can do it. You won't fail the tribe… and you won't fail Tumblebrutus."


	2. Chapter 2

Title: A Tale of Three Kittens (2/3)  
Rating: K  
Notes: In which there are new arrivals to the Junkyard.

I have been promised a picture of Simbol. As soon as I get it, I will share it. I PROMISE!

I do not own Cats!

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A Tale of Three Kittens

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"Munksrap?"

It had been five days, five horrible, horrible days since Simbol died. The grief-wails had all but stopped now, and Munkustrap wasn't jumping quite as much when Admetus came up to him looking for orders.

He did jump, though, at the sound of Tumble's voice, not expecting the kitten to come up behind him. "Yes, Tumble?"

"Daddy's not comin' back?"

Munkustrap shook his head. "No, Tumble, he's not." He and Tugger and Admetus and Jellylorum had been working with Tumble for the past few days, trying to get the kitten to fully understand what dead meant.

"And Momma's not comin' back?"

Munkustrap shook his head again. Jenny was going to be locked in her house for weeks, at least, after her humans had caught her. At least a month. To a kitten, a month was practically forever.

Tumble looked down at his paws and sniffed, a fat tear rolling down his cheek. "Munksrap," he said, "Munksrap… doesn't nobody wan' me?"

"That's… that's not true, Tumblebrutus!" Munkustrap cried. "We do want you. Jellylorum…"

Tumble scrubbed at his nose with a paw and looked up at Munkustrap. "But I doesn't have a daddy n-n-now…" He sniffed again, starting to sob.

Munkustrap watched as the little kitten curled into a ball, crying like his heart was broken. He felt so helpless… first he had failed Cattivo, and then Simbol, and now here was Tumble, so obviously in pain… and he couldn't do a thing about it. "Oh Tumble…" he whispered, hugging the kitten.

"Munkustrap? I say, is that you, Munkustrap?"

Munkustrap turned to look at the new cat approaching them: Bustopher Jones, of the Scabee _and _Jellicle tribes. "Hello, Sir. How can I help you?" Bustopher Jones was always to be treated with the utmost respect, Simbol had told him, because Bustopher Jones was a _Scabee_, and the Scabees were insane about honor and respect and if you didn't treat him properly, he'll squash you like a bug under his paw. And Simbol would finish that with a roll of his eyes to show what he _really _thought of the Scabees and their systems, and Admetus and Munkustrap would hide snerks behind their paws and nod dutifully, their eyes wide to show they were paying attention.

"Mmph, yes…" Bustopher brushed his paw against his coat as he waddled toward Munkustrap and Tumble (and Munkustrap noticed that the kitten had ducked behind him, hiding behind his legs). "I would like it if you could bring me to Simbol." Another brush of his paw, and more of that stilted waddling. It looked almost like invisible paws were holding Bustopher's legs back.

Munkustrap felt little claws prick into his knees and a wet face get pushed against the backs of his legs at the mention of Simbol. "With all due respect, I'm afraid I can't do that, Sir," he said, curling his tail around the hiding kitten.

"Busy, is he? No matter. I can wait a few hours. My business is important, but not that urgent."

"Sir… it's not that he's busy," Munkustrap said (how could the Scabees _not _know!? They _loved _gossip!). "It's that… well… Simbol's dead, Sir. He died five days ago."

"Dead!? Died… five days ago!? How could I not know about this!?" Bustopher certainly seemed more upset over his lack of up-to-date information than he did about the actual _content _of said information. Munkustrap sighed.

"I don't kn-"

"Tell me, then, Munkustrap, if Simbol truly is dead, then who is Protector of the Jellicles?"

"Actually, Sir, I am." Munkustrap squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, looking Bustopher in the eye.

"_You_? But you're hardly more than a kitten!"

Munkustrap bristled slightly, but kept his composure. "Most cats, Sir, have the tact to not say that to my face."

Bustopher just brushed that comment off. "Never mind your age. I have a new Jellicle for you."

"A new Jellicle?"

Bustopher nodded. "My nephew." He reached behind him, pulling out a kitten, a little black and white tuxedo tom. The kitten looked to be about Tumblebrutus' age, and though he was a bit too big for Bustopher to carry as a mother would, the kitten still reacted the same way, curling his legs up and blinking at Munkustrap through impossibly dark gold eyes. "Mistoffelees."

Munkustrap frowned a little as Bustopher set the kitten down in front of him, pushing him toward Munkustrap. The little cat took a few steps, looking back at Bustopher, before staring up at Munkustrap again, one paw creeping toward his mouth. "Why are you trying to pass your nephew off to the Jellicles? Shouldn't the Scabees raise him?"

"Mother says I should go drown myself," Mistoffelees said, mumbling around the paw he was sucking on. "Mother says I should help the entire tribe and go throw myself in front of a Pollicle, or a car."

"The Scabees want him dead," Bustopher said, his tone serious, before Munkustrap could comment on what Mistoffelees had just said. "Not just have they encouraged him to commit suicide, but they've already tried to kill him. Show him, Mistoffelees."

Mistoffelees raised his left arm and turned, showing Munkustrap some barely-scabbed-over claw marks from where someone had torn into his side. Munkustrap hissed a little at the sight of such ugly wounds on such a young cat. "Why!? What has he done that made an entire tribe want his death? He can't be that old…"

"A little over four months," Bustopher said, stepping up to Mistoffelees and knocking his paw out of his mouth with a shake of his head. Mistoffelees looked up at him before pressing his paws together, standing the same way Bustopher was, even puffing out his cheeks and chest to emulate Bustopher's plumpness. "And he hasn't done anything. That's why I'm trying to protect him."

"They must think he did something," Munkustrap said, trying not to watch Mistoffelees as the kitten gave up trying to look fat and instead crept his damp paw toward his mouth again. "Why are they trying to kill him?"

Bustopher sighed and clapped Mistoffelees on the back. "The Scabees believe this little tyke is a bastard, that his father isn't Lord Nicodemus Wellington, my sister's primary mate, but instead… well… ehem… they just think he's a bastard."

Munkustrap narrowed his eyes as Bustopher trailed off. "Who do they think his father is?" he asked.

"I don't see how that's important," Bustopher said, puffing up even further.

"Mavcavity," Mistoffelees answered Munkustrap, still mumbling around his paw. "Acause I can do this." He held up his other paw, showing Munkustrap the sparks and sparkles that danced around the tip.

"'Macavity,' and 'Because,'" Bustopher said, cuffing Mistoffelees lightly around the ears as he corrected him. "And keep that paw out of your mouth!" He batted it away again, before looking back to Munkustrap. "He's not Macavity's son, Munkustrap, you have my word on that. My sister would never stoop so low as to consort with a filthy tom like him."

Munkustrap looked at the little kitten, who looked like the only thing keeping him from crying was the paw that kept returning to his mouth, despite Bustopher's attempts to keep him proper. Munkustrap couldn't help but smile a little at the tiny cat. "Even if he _was _Macavity's son, the Jellicles would take him in," Munkustrap said with a nod. "_Anyone _can become a Jellicle. All they have to do is ask. And in this case, you're asking for Mistoffelees. That will work." He reached out a paw to the magical kitten. "Would you like to be a Jellicle, Mistoffelees?"

Mistoffelees sucked on his paw and looked at Munkustrap's, and then up at Munkustrap's face. He pulled his paw out of his mouth with a 'pop' and asked, quite plainly, "Does the Jellicles hurt kittens?"

"No," Munkustrap said, with a firm shake of his head. "We would _never _hurt a kitten."

Mistoffelees' paw slid back in his mouth, and the sucking resumed as he seemed to contemplate this. Beside him, Bustopher was muttering, "Do. _Do _the Jellicles…"

Munkustrap cupped a paw around his mouth and leaned closer to whisper to Mistoffelees, "And we also let you suck your paw as much as you want." Sure, it was frowned on when an adult behaved like a kitten, but it wasn't a crime for a kitten to behave like a kitten, and paw-sucking was one of the things some kittens just _did._ They all grew out of it, eventually, and Munkustrap was sure Mistoffelees would be the same.

With a little smile, Mistoffelees pulled his wet paw out of his mouth and reached for Munkustrap's paw. "Can I be a Jellicle?"

Munkustrap smiled (resisting the urge to grimace at the damp fur he now held) and closed his paw around Mistoffelees' tiny one. "Yes, Mistoffelees. You can be a Jellicle."

"Ahem." Bustopher cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. "One more matter of business, Munkustrap. The Scabees might protest this. They might still come after Mistoffelees, even if he is a Jellicle."

"So we don't let them know he's here," Munkustrap said, reaching out to stroke Mistoffelees' ears.

"And how do you propose to do that?" Bustopher asked, twitching his whiskers. "Mistoffelees the magic cat is rather unique…"

"We'll change his name," Munkustrap answered. It worked for him, it should work for Mistoffelees too. "We'll change his name, and encourage him to keep his magic under wraps. Mistoffelees the magic cat might be on the Scabee's bad side, but…" He glanced behind him, at Tumblebrutus, who had been paying attention even if he hadn't moved his face from Munkustrap's legs. "Why don't you name him?" he suggested. "Can you thing of a good name for Mistoffelees?"

"Um…" Tumble pulled his face out of Munkustrap's legs and screwed it up in thought. "Uh… Quacks! Call him Quacks! Like a ducky! Quack quack!"

"_Quacks_?"

Munkustrap laughed a little at Tumble's sound effects and Bustopher's face. "How about Quaxo?" he suggested, tweaking Tumble's suggestion into something a bit more cat-like. "Do you like the name Quaxo, Mistoffelees?"

The little tuxedo kitten stared up at Munkustrap, sucking furiously on his other paw. He pulled it out and quacked at the tabby.

Much to Munkustrap's surprise, behind his legs, Tumble began to giggle. He pushed his head through around Munkustrap's thighs and quacked back at Mistoffelees. Munkustrap lifted a leg, moving off of Tumble, and let the two kittens quack back and forth as he turned to Bustopher. "We'll take care of him, Bustopher. He'll be in safe paws here with us."

"Yes… well, I…" Bustopher adjust his coat and nodded. "I suppose I, ah, ought to say good-bye to him, then…"

"You're a Jellicle too," Munkustrap reminded him. "You're welcome to visit at any time."

Bustopher smiled and nodded at Munkustrap before waddling over to Mistoffelees (now Quaxo) and tapping him on the shoulder. "Mistoffelees… you be good for Munkustrap and the Jellicles now, you hear? And if you're ever in trouble, you know where I live."

Mistoffelees listened, stopping his quacking to nod to Bustopher, giving him a big hug (and trying to wrap his wet paws around his uncle's ample waist). Bustopher didn't try to hid his grimace of disgust at the moisture now gracing his fur, but he hugged Mistoffelees too, patting his back. "I'll see you later, Mistoffelees. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, Uncle Bustopher," Mistoffelees said, clinging to the larger cat until Bustopher pulled his paws free.

"Go play with your new friend, all right? I'm sure he'll show you around your new home." And with that, Bustopher turned away from the kitten, returning to his own home.

Mistoffelees watched Bustopher walk off before turning his dark eyes up to Munkustrap. "Are you my uncle now?" Suck, suck, suck on his paw.

"It looks like it," Munkustrap said, reaching out to set his paw on Mistoffelees' skinny shoulder.

Tumble tugged on Munkustrap's arm. "Munksrap, where's Quacks gonna live? Huh? Where's Quacks gonna live? Can he live with me? Huh? Huh? Can he? Pleeeeeease?"

The prospect of having another kitten around, even one as shy and quiet as Mistoffelees, seemed to be working wonders on Tumble's mood. Munkustrap couldn't even imagine saying no to the kitten. Besides, Mistoffelees was staring up at him with a definitely pleading expression in those big eyes of his. The two tomkits would do well together, Munkustrap decided. They could help each other – they were both effectively orphans now, after all. "Of course," he said, smiling at them. "Come on, kits. Let's go home, shall we?" He took Mistoffelees' paw in one of his, and Tumble's in the other, and led the two kittens back to Jellylorum's den.

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	3. Chapter 3

Title: A Tale of Three Kittens (3/3)  
Rating: K  
Notes: In which there are new arrivals to the Junkyard.

Simbol LIVES! A HUUUUUGE thank you goes to the amazing artist Mange for providing me with this lovely portrait of Simbol. You can find him (and other cats) here: o u r j e l l i c l e s . p r o b o a r d s 5 1 . c o m / i n d e x . c g i ? b o a r d (equal sign) f a n w o r k s & a c t i o n (equal sign) d i s p l a y & t h r e a d (equal sign) 1 1 8 7 2 2 2 6 9 7 & p a g e (equal sign) 1

I will never ever ever say no to anyone who wants to draw me Simbol… just so you know.

Anyway, here's the third kitten in our tale…

I do not own Cats!

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A Tale of Three Kittens

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"_There _you are!" Mistoffelees darted along a wire that was suspended between two piles of junk, gracefully leaping down to land beside Tumblebrutus. "I've only been looking for you everywhere, Tumble! What're you doing out here?"

Tumble sighed and looked at the ground he had curled up by – Simbol's grave. "Just thinkin'," he said quietly.

"Of your dad?" Mistoffelees cocked his head to the side, watching Tumble with those dark eyes of his.

It had been two months since Mistoffelees came to the junkyard, two months since Simbol died. Munkustrap's hunch had been right – the young toms had supported each other in their loss. Whenever one started getting overly morose about his own pain, the other reminded him that his was worse – and to this day, they hadn't figured out which actually _was _worse, losing your beloved father and an older brother to death, or being thrown out of the only home you ever knew by relatives who'd sooner see you dead (except one who always brought caviar or some other tasty treat whenever he visited – always enough for two kittens).

"Yeah," Tumble sighed, resting his chin on his paws. "I don't remember what he sounds like anymore. I can't remember his voice."

Mistoffelees had been a good influence on Tumblebrutus. His near-impeccable manners and almost-flawless speech had rubbed off on the other kitten, even as his own frayed a bit around the edges without an over-bearing uncle to correct him every five seconds.

"It could be worse," Mistoffelees told Tumble, flopping down beside him. "You _could _remember his voice, and remember that the last thing he said to you was a death wish." The last words Mistoffelees' mother spoke to him were: _You filthy mutt, I should have wrung your neck when you were born!_ That was when Bustopher had stepped in and pulled Mistoffelees away, but not before the kitten had gotten his side torn open (and he later made a full recovery).

Tumble sighed and looked over at Mistoffelees, at the solemn expression on that white face, his mismatched forepaws pressed together in that way of sitting that was inherently _Scabee_ – far too uptight to be comfortable for long (in Tumble's opinion).

Tumblebrutus had been a good influence on Mistoffelees. When he wasn't gloomy, his ability to grin at anything and find the best in life was always able to make the more serious tuxedo tom smile back, and with his never-ending confidence in his friend, Mistoffelees had stopped sucking on his paw, something Bustopher never had managed to get the kitten to do.

Tumble nodded, getting to his feet. "You're right," he said. "You're right. Things could be worse. At least Dad's in the Heaviside Layer now. Old Deuteronomy said he was." And if Old Deuteronomy said it, it must be true.

Stretching and yawning wide, Tumble turned bright eyes toward Mistoffelees. "So... you found me. Now what?"

Mistoffelees grinned, bouncing to his feet. Standing next to Tumble now, the average cat wouldn't believe that these two were the same age. Tumble had started an explosive growth spurt, his lanky limbs already proving that he would someday be a large cat, like his father. Mistoffelees, on the other hand, barely put on a centimeter of length since he came to the junkyard, remaining kittenishly small. "I want to go exploring with you!"

"Exploring?" Tumble shook his head. "We're not supposed to leave the junkyard..."

"I know," Mistoffelees said. "And we won't! I just want to see what's over there," he pointed to his left, "beyond the glass."

A corner of the junkyard was cut of from the rest by a ribbon of broken glass, the graveyard for unwanted windows. Older cats could climb the junk piles and get to the other side but kittens couldn't quite manage that. As such, Mistoffelees and Tumblebrutus hadn't yet seen that side of the yard.

Curiosity killed the cat, the saying went, and Mistoffelees was definitely dancing in his desire to go see what was over there. Tumble grinned and clapped his paws. "Yeah, let's go!"

When they reached the glass, Tumble turned toward the pile that looked the easiest to climb, but Mistoffelees shook his head and grinned. "Nuh-uh. I got a trick for us!" He marched up to the edge of the glass and spread his paws, taking a deep breath and concentrating. Tumble bounded over to his side, recognizing that face as Mistoffelees' 'magic face.' He loved watching his friend do magical things (and wished he could do some of them himself).

The glass in front of the two kittens stirred, making a tinkling sound as if they were being buffeted by an unseen wind. Slowly, shivering and sparkling in the sunlight, it began to move, rising off the ground and floating about a foot in the air, chiming lightly as pieces knocked together. Mistoffelees opened his eyes and grinned at Tumblebrutus. "It'll stay up for a minute. Come on!" He dropped his paws to the earth and bounded forward, keeping his tail low and easily making it under the glass. Tumble followed with a giggle.

"That was awesome!" Tumble cried, clapping his paws and spinning around. "You're awesome!"

Mistoffelees giggled and blushed, scuffing his paw on the ground. "Nah… it's just a simple magic… I'm not really good at much else yet…"

"It's still awesome," Tumble insisted, looking around the new corner of the junkyard. "Wow… _look _at this place! Hey… hey… I've got an idea! Let's play Heroes! Me an' you, we're the heroes, right? And somewhere in here, there's an evil dragon, and he kidnapped the beautiful princess…"

Mistoffelees wrinkled his nose. "I don't wanna rescue a beautiful princess. Could he have kidnapped a catnip mouse instead?"

"Dragons _gotta _kidnap beautiful princesses," Tumble protested. "It's in the _rules_!"

"What if it's a beautiful princess with a catnip mouse? And she'll give it to us if we rescue her?"

Tumble thought that over before nodding. "Yeees… yes, that could work! Beautiful princess with a catnip mouse that's all ours if we rescue her!"

After finding some twigs to be their swords and scraps of towels to be their capes, the two kittens began posturing and prancing their way around the yard. "Avast ye dragons, for I be Growltiger, the big pirate king! And I'm gonna fry your gizzards for lunch!" Tumble cried as he swiped at a mirror with his stick.

"And… and I'm Merlin, the wizard, who's gonna torch your tail! Zap! Bang!" Mistoffelees' sword had turned into a wand somewhere along the way.

"Gotcha!" Tumble shouted, leaping under a car with his twig flailing.

"Hah!" Mistoffelees came in from the other side, pointing his "wand."

Both kittens froze. There was another cat under here. A _queen_.

The white queen lifted her head, turning to look at the two kittens with blurry blue eyes. "Help me…" she whispered, before beginning to cough, her whole body shaking.

Tumble and Mistoffeeles stared at each other. What were they supposed to do?

Mistoffelees, the shier of the two, nudged Tumble forward, giving him a wide-eyed look. _You talk!_

Tumble made a face back at Mistoffelees, but he edged his way closer. "O-okay… what do you need help with?"

The queen took a labored breath, closing her eyes, before she reached down and nudged her belly. A few pushes later, and a tiny white kitten, too young to even have her eyes open yet, was separated from her mother's belly fur. "Victoria…" the queen whispered, her head drooping. "Help… take care of my Vicky…"

Mistoffelees crept forward, sniffing at the kitten before picking her up in his arms. She was so tiny… "You want us to be Vicky's mommies?" he asked the queen, but there was no answer. Cradling Victoria, he went back to Tumble's side, offering him the kitten. "You stay here," he whispered. "Hold her, keep her warm…" He wrapped Tumble's paws around the little queen. "I'll be right back, with help!"

Tumble sat down by the mother's side as he cradled little Vicky in his paws. She was nuzzling against his chest, sucking on his fur and making little squeaking sounds. Tumble squeaked back at her, marveling at her soft ears, at her miniscule paws, at her little tuft of a tail. "You know… you're kinda cute," he told her, leaning down to lick her tiny pink nose. She squeaked and sneezed, and Tumble giggled.

"And then I gave her to Tumble, and I ran and got you, and that's the whole story!" Mistoffelees came careening back under the car a few minutes later, with Munkustrap and Jellylorum right behind him. "See? See? There they are!" He pointed his paw toward the white queens.

Jellylorum rushed forward, dropping to her knees by the older queen's side. "Oh no…" she whispered. "Oh no, no, no…"

Tumble carefully carried the kitten over to Munkustrap, holding her up to the tabby. "Her name's Victoria! Can we keep her?"

Munkustrap looked over at Jellylorum, reaching out to take Victoria from Tumble. "Jelly…?"

"She's dead," Jellylorum whispered, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "It looks like she was very injured." With a deep breath, Jellylorum pushed herself to her feet and crossed over to Munkustrap, holding out her paws. "Is this the kitten? Oh dear… she's so young… we don't have any milk mothers to feed her…"

"Can I hold her?" Mistoffelees bounced up to Jellylorum, holding his paws up. "Pleeeease? Can I hold her?"

"Be careful," Jellylorum said, putting the kitten into Mistoffelees' paws. "Here, hold her hind legs up, support her head, just like that… now don't drop her."

Mistoffelees sat down, cradling Victoria as he was shown. Tumble sat down next to him, reaching over to tickle the kitten under the chin as the adults talked. "I think she's hungry," Tumble whispered.

"Yeah," Mistoffelees said. "Looky, she's sucking on my fur!" He giggled.

"She did that to me too!" Tumble said with a grin.

"Hmm…" Mistoffelees looked over at Jellylorum and Munkustrap, but the older cats were busy talking about what to do with the newborn kitten. "I've gots an idea. Hold her, Tumble!"

Once Victoria was in Tumble's paws, Mistoffelees studied his own. "Kittens drink milk," he said. "White for milk." He stuck his white forepaw in his mouth, sucking on it a bit, before he pulled it out and nodded. "Wet like milk. And now…" He touched his paw to Victoria's lips.

At first, Victoria continued her hungry squeaking, but after a few minutes, her little pink tongue darted out. Once she tasted Mistoffelees' paw, she squeaked again, clamping on with tiny paws and pulling it close, suckling on his finger like she would her mother.

"We'll have to take her to humans," Munkustrap said, turning toward the kittens. "We don't have any other way of feeding her… Quaxo, what are you doing?"

"I'm feeding her," Mistoffelees answered, stroking Victoria's soft ears. "With magic. I made milk."

Jellylorum shook her head. "That's impossible, dear. You're a tom, you can't make milk."

"Nuh-uh," Mistoffelees said, wrestling his paw free from Victoria. She immediately began squalling. "See!" He held out his paw to Jellylorum, showing her that, sure enough, warm milk dripped from his fingers. "Milk!"

Jellylorum stared at the milk. Munkustrap stared at the milk. Tumblebrutus nudged Mistoffelees. "She's still hungry."

Mistoffelees gave Victoria his fingers again, and he smiled up at the adults. "We can feed her, see? Can we be her mommies? Please? Pleasepleaseplease? Pleeeeease?"

"Pleeeease?" Tumble harmonized, cuddling Victoria close to him. "Please? Her mommy asked us to take care of her, pleeeeease?"

Munkustrap stared at Jellylorum. "I… guess… if Quaxo can feed her…"

"Then there's no need to turn her over to humans," Jellylorum finished with a nod. "Yes. We'll keep her. She'll be a Jellicle."

* * *

And thus Victoria enters the junkyard. Yaaaay, Vicky! Yaaaay Misto! Yaaaay Tumble! 

To Be Continued in _Collared_...


End file.
